


The Boar, The Deer and The Butterfly

by claude_gueuse



Category: Naruto
Genre: Formation Ino-Shika-Cho, Original Character(s), Warring States Period (Naruto)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 11:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12364266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claude_gueuse/pseuds/claude_gueuse
Summary: History books never mentioned the very first Ino-Shika-Cho formation. They should.





	1. The Boar

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, etc.
> 
> I always wondered why Masashi Kishimoto never talked about how Ino-Shika-Cho became what it is nowadays. Doesn't it bother you? Don't you want to find out the truth? Those families are more than just comrades. They're more than friends. They're even more interesting to me than what we saw from the Warring States Period from Uchiha/Senju's perspective.  
> ...So, I tried to find an answer myself.  
> (On an additional note, English is not my native language. I've never seeked out a beta-reader so I've corrected as many mistakes as I could on my own.)  
> This story is also available on [fanfiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12223992/1/The-Boar-The-Deer-and-The-Butterfly).  
> Enjoy !

**Inojika** watched the boar wallowing in mud, snorting from time to time. _It's gross_ , she thought. But she couldn't stop looking at the pig, mesmerized by its lack of grace and beauty. Dirty brown fur that she'd rather have as a coat, muddy paws and toned muscles under the skin to fight, when it had to. She understood that feeling, though - she had the same strength, hidden behind her exquisite features. She was stunning and a gift for the eyes, that lady. They - men, obviously - thought she was weak and she didn't deserve to lead the Yamanaka Clan. They forgot she was skilled, frightening and deadly. Just as that boar who was eating a rotten apple covered in dirt.  
The fact that Inojika embodied best what “perfection” also meant that she used it as her advantage. Who would think such a radiant lady could slit your throat without blinking? You guessed it well: no one. Her power lay in her bright red lipstick and her enhanced cheekbones. She was aware that men were watching her back - her butt - but she didn't care. One touch, and a kunai would pierce the air and cut off the wandering hand.  
She was beauty, she was grace but she was harsh.  
And she was at the head of the Yamanaka Clan.  
She got that title when her father - a brave, but a foolish man - had been found dead on the battlefield, two years ago. _Suffocated to death_ by a shadow. She never sought revenge -those kinds of stupid thoughts would only lead her to the same fate. So here she was, watching a damn boar carelessly, even when its narrowing eyes found hers, ready to strike her tiny body. She stood up of her feet, leaving the smuggish forest before losing track on time.  
Or _worse_ , crossing the path of an enemy.

She came back to the compound an hour later. Located next to the forest, it was highly guarded. Nobody could reach the main house without suffering the consequences: a slow, painful death. A Senju youngster tried, once. It was his only mistake. He had been torn apart from the inside, begging for release. Inojika had broke his neck.  
When she entered her estate with ease and confidence, everybody recognized their superior and some of them bowed to greet her.  
She had straight blond hair as glowing as the sun. Her facial features were gentle enhanced by a strong chin. Despite the rainy weather, she only wore a mesh armour under a radiant, thin jacket with blue, red and pink complicated flowers designed on. Instead of a skirt, Inojika chose to wear a pair of black leather pants. “Only men are allowed to wear trousers, they said. Only men are allowed to fight, they said.” But his father never succeeded to fuck her mother hard enough to put a manly seed inside her belly.  
However, he had been pleased to discover that her baby girl was gleaming with power. He passed the torch when he died while he could have picked his little brother to lead the Clan - but he will never be as lethal as Inojika, who knew how to use her body to charm, to fight, to _kill_.  
She was a rose, that lady.  
Beautiful, colorful, spreading her petals as she spread out her tights to suffocate you until your last breathe with her vicious thorns.  
She was a rose, and she was ready to enter the battlefield tomorrow.


	2. The Deer

**Shikama** observed the deer wandering through the forest, its smarts eyes fixing the sky. _It's annoying_ , he thought. Deer were magnificent creatures, depicted as forest's gods. The Nara Clan used their horns - stolen from dead bodies - to make medicines. A legend said that eating deer's raw heart could boost the mind and strengthen the spirit. Centuries ago, the first Nara patriarch ate one. Soon after, he became able to anticipate several of his enemy's moves before the man himself could make them.  
Shikama was similar to his grandfather in terms of smartness. The master of shogi, the champion of chess, the best battle strategist of the century - you named it.  
But that guy was lazy and aloof. Following the deer's example, his eyes peered the sky and its smoky clouds. He laid back on the grass, yawning. Despite the fact he was only twenty years old, he felt old. Even older than the skeleton swinging above his head, still strung up to the hanging tree. Shikama's gaze looked at the chewed bones. He never knew how and why this guy ended up here. What had he done to deserve such a cruel death?  
Perhaps he had stolen a rotten apple.  
Perhaps he was stupid. Or perhaps he had encountered a slightly furious Nara.  
_Troublesome_ , he sighed. But not as troublesome as the clan wars that still struggled the whole continent. The Nara Clan - that the young boy was leading thoroughly - was only a tiny pawn of the massive plot that was the Clan Wars. Both kings were the Senju Clan and the Uchiha Clan: they were the strongest, the wildest and the fiercest.  
The Nara Clan worked in the shadows, though. It was expected from them to be simple pawns. But it didn't mean that they were safe from harm. They faced two major lower clans: the Yamanaka Clan and the Akimichi Clan. Both were tremendously high skilled.  
Shikama bite his bottom lips, lost in his own schemes.  
But when the twilight was oozing the forest, he got up, leaving the weeping willow known as the hanging tree. _Such a fitting tree_ , he muttered to himself slowly.

He came back to the Nara's property an hour later. Located in the middle of the forest, it wasn't guarded. Nobody was stupid enough to sneak out the haunted woods. A legend said that once, shadows of trees, animals and humans broke away from their tangible forms to murder random travellers. Shikama swallowed his smirk down. That legend was created to protect the Nara Clan without risking to be invaded by their enemies.  
He offered an absent face to his mother, screaming that he was late and that was not the bahavior expected from a Clan's leader. He sighed, shaking his head lazily.  
That damn woman was troublesome. Then, she crossed the line, saying that such a sluggish boy will never find a proper bride to bear his heirs.  
Still, he was _quite_ good-looking. He had curly brown hair pulled back into a spiky bun. His facial features were strong and emphasized by a beard. In spite of the dull weather, he was only wearing his armour. Composed of a mesh shirt made of steel, a black leather jacket, brown trousers and a pair of gloves, he was freezing. But he smiled, kissing her mother cheek before entering his austere bedroom. Shikama was too lazy to decorate and despite his lack of energy, he perfectly embodied what "manly" represented.  
His broad shoulders could easily lift a damsel in distress. But he loathed this kind of women. He'd rather have an average woman to warm his bed, with an average life and an average but regular job to put food in his plate. He had never wanted to be at the helm of the Nara Clan but here he was, listening to his elders and planning battles ahead.  
Still, he was a shadow, that man.  
He was using his fingers to move forward his numerous pawns wisely.  
He was a shadow, and he was ready to enter the battlefield tomorrow.


	3. The Butterfly

**Choku** smiled at the butterfly who landed on his finger, shaking its wings lazily. Truly beautiful, those creatures. Harmless too. He didn't dare touch its wings : the creature will die shortly after, disturbed by man's rotten hands. Choku was still smiling and slightly giggling when the butterfly left beyond his reach.  
He didn't care about his current state of nakedness nor the fact that he was fat. He jumped in the cool river, washing the blood dripping from a fresh wound on his upper arm. A courtesy of Inojika Yamanaka and her sharp weapons, aiming to kill.  
Failing to kill. Or was it deliberate?  
Choku, just like his mother, was tender, kindhearted, soft. Someone who didn’t belong to this world. Someone who didn’t deserve to be thrown on the battlefield. Someone who’d rather be watching the sky, surrounded by dozen of lazy, colorful wings. He was a dreamer; that fool thought peace could be built somehow: it only needed a little push in the right direction. Perhaps he was really a fool, an idiot blinded by his softness. He couldn’t care less. After all, someone had to possess such a caring personality. Someone had to held hope and faith high, far above causing mayhem and slaughtering innocents.  
A nice, lovely soul, that man. Chuckling softly whenever he can, no matter what happened. A ray of sunshine in a world swallowed by darkness – by shadows eager to break your neck in a single, steady motion. In spite of the fact that he had buried his very own sister three days ago, killed – _assassinated_ , he muttered – by a Nara, his guts kept telling him it wasn’t entirely their fault. They weren’t pure nor untainted but nonetheless, Choku believed they were sinless.   
A fool, indeed.  
A shivering fool, finally deciding to get dressed before nightfall. It was going to be a cold night. A rainy one, perhaps. He didn’t mind those. Well… he didn’t mind those if his precious butterflies were inside the Akimichi compound, sheltered from the dripping water.

He came back to the compound an hour later. Located near a frightening forest, it was well-guarded – heavily guarded. Nobody ever tried to sneak out inside. Why bother? The Akimichi were seen as wealkings - and gross -, even among lower clans. Attacking them? It was not worth it. It will be seen as a filthy move. A smart one, but an easy one.  
 _A shameful one_.  
Truth is – Choku never cared about what they may think. He knew he was strong. Colossal. Able to crush a Nara’s head without blinking. Well, _while_ blinking. Choku would rather use its enormous strength to help people in need. Hell, he could have been a carpenter or better! - a lumberjack.  
His appearance fitted, though. Choku had thick brown eyebrows, enhancing deep blue eyes – same shade as the sky. His reddish cheeks, soften by a sweet smile surrounded by a heavy beard was quite a sigh. In spite of his alarming state of bulkiness, Choku was a pretty man, almost a Prince Charming – wearing a sparkling armour help. Strong, red cuirass, black gauntlets and so forth. It was heavy. Just like him. And shiny. Just like him.  
And he smiled at his mother, at his siblings and at his fellow clan’s members while entering the main house. It was shinier than his armour. It was warm, appealing, commanding. _Nobody dares tell him to drop it_.  
Still, he was a giant, that man.  
He used his goofy smile and hopeful comments to fool everyone, pretending to loath blood just to spill the blood of his enemies more easily.  
He was a giant, and he was ready to enter the battlefield tomorrow.


	4. How It Began

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Faceclaims** : Inojika Yamanaka looks like Rita Ora,  
>  Shikama Nara looks like Kit Harington,  
> Choku looks like Zach Galifianakis.

It was a bloodbath.  
It was everywhere; on the grass, on their clothes, on their hands, on their weapons, on their faces and on their tongues, tasting like iron.  
It had begun before sunrise. The three of them had left their compounds, armed to the teeth. None of them had hesitated; they had struck at the same time, leaning forward their own self-destruction when they could be so much more.  
Shikama felt nauseous. His senses, overwhelmed by the sight of death coerced him to kneel. Surrounded by corpses – some of them still screaming for mercy – he seemed old. Older than he really was. He couldn’t understand why he let himself obey to Nara elders’s orders without complaining much. In the beginning, it felt right.  
It felt obvious. Moreover, it was necessary. They had to fight – for protecting his clan, its children, its power, its secrets, its kekkei genkai.  
In the end, they were killing the youth, spilling secrets faster than a lightning stroke, tearing each other apart until nothing but emptiness remained.  
For all his smartness, Shikama felt particularly dumb. His hair, released from his ponytail hid his contemplative gaze. Nobody dared to throw a kunai at him; no matter what, his shadow will catch it.   
...Apart from Inojika Yamanaka.  
His shadow rose, catching the kunai in a fast blur motion. He could have strike her; killing her without even meeting her piercing blue gaze. It would be easy. Her mesh shirt was not strong enough to protect her from such an attack.   
Unaware of her direct surrounding, Inojika was panting. The sun was already high in the sky, and despite being a deadly shinobi, exhaustion took the best of her. She felt heavy, trying to reach that damn Nara with all the strength she still had in her sore muscles.  
She just needed to gather her hands together… To make the proper seal. To aim right. To slice his goddamn throat with his own bare fingers.  
She could bring the Nara clan to its knees in a single, steady stance.  
It wasn’t about payback or revenge. It was for the sake of her clan. Their survival through this meaningless war that none of them could stop. It never crossed Inojika’s mind when nothing was supposed to escape its grasp.  
On her left, the Akichimi’s heir rose his colossal fist high in the air – ready to punch her to a pulp. Large enough to hide the sun. The battlefield was covered in darkness.  
It was exactly what Shikama needed. His hands found each other, bind to a killing spree’s desire that torn his guts with a feeling of guilt.  
He didn’t think.  
He won’t think.  
He launched his shadow forward, moving as fast as a snake on the ground. It went through Choku’s, meandering around his large leg until it reached his muscular neck. Dark fingers wandered on the strangely smooth skin before sinking themselves as deep as they can around his carotid arteries.  
Another one who will suffer a senseless death. Another one who will suffocate to death by shadow. Another victim. Another man, hidden behind everything his clan wanted him to be – what about his feelings? His desires? His goals? His dreams? His flaws?  
Inojika didn’t hesitate.  
Her mind was ready to leave her own body and-  
“Stop!” he shouted. “Enough… It’s enough.”  
Choku coughed, hard. The shadow’s grasp tightened before releasing his throat. Shikama’s shadow came back to its master, coming to a standstill at his feet.  
“Enough.” Choku repeated. “We’ve seen enough blood today. Spilling more is pointless.”  
The three of them studied each other’s features carefully. Inojika dropped her hands to her side, catching a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Shikama stood up, wiping off the blood at the corner of his mouth. He cast a glance to Choku and they both nodded.  
“You’re right.” he began. “Let’s call it a day and go back to our respective compounds. No more fighting, no more needless deaths.”  
“...I’m gonna help you guys gather your wounded and your… fallen soldiers.”  
They both stared at Inojika, puzzled. She was the less compassionate of them all and yet, she offered a genuine offer and a soft smile. Blood poured from her parted lips and above her left tight, sliced open. She was an utter mess covered in dust.   
They received quizzical looks from some members of their respective clans; they couldn’t care less.   
“Your proposition is dearly appreciated, Yamanaka-san.” Choku replied, his wide smile echoing hers.  
“It seemed… appropriate, Akimichi-san.”  
“Just call me Choku,” he giggled, a soft light appearing deep down his eyes. “Akimichi-san… It reminds me of my father.”  
It felt weird. Misplaced. Inojika’s guts were torn apart between two options : ignoring her enemy or chatting with him.  
She chose the latter before giving it too much thinking. She grinned, helping a bruised Nara to stand up carefully, avoiding his broken ribs. He whispered a thank you, milady that she didn’t hear. The truth was that she was focused on Choku Akimichi. She always seen him as a strong, harsh shinoji. A killer, a murderer, a giant weapon of mass destruction. She failed to see the man hidden beneath his gargantuan features. He was strangely graceful while picking up corpses to put them aboard chariots. Neither their spiky buns nor their blond hair locks seemed to matter. He treated all of them like equal fellow fallen warriors.   
Such a thought made her blush. Her cheeks were burning up and she quickly started to patch up one of her kind.  
“Choku-san, I need a bandage. Can you give me one?”  
He handed her several several rolls, a never-ending smile across his lips.  
“Drop the honorifics, Yamanaka-san.”  
“I will only if you drop them as well.”  
“Can I drop them too? Honorifics are troublesome.” Shikama sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. He studied both of them, searching something on their faces he couldn’t put a name on. An idea sprouted in his mind, spreading its numerous petals across his neurons.  
He wouldn’t dare keep it for himself. So, he spoke again.  
“We were so coordinate on the battlefield that it had almost blown up my mind, guys. I mean, I _used_ Choku’s shadow to enhance mine in order to strike him – sorry about that, by the way, and Inojika… imagine what he could have done if you were controlling my body. Imagine what the three of us could do, together. As a team.”  
“...What are you talking about, lazy-ass?”  
“Just imagine, guys.”  
Choku and Inojika were expressionless. Was he offering a peace treaty? Or was he trying to mess up with them in order to defeat them both at the same time? They were never too careful with a mind like Nara’s. Those bastards planned ahead. Those motherfuckers would probably guess Uchiha kekkai gekai’s weakness just by watching their twirling orbs.  
Even weirder, Choku burst out laughing.  
“Inojika, Shikama, I hope you will come to my compound tomorrow, fresh and clean. We have to practise our combinations.”  
“Of course, count on me, pal.”  
Inojika grumbled, folding her arms. Men! Stupids. Relentless. All of them. However, she failed to repress her mischievous grin.   
“Shikama, bring the strongest sake you have, or I won’t come. It’s obvious I need to get drunk if you want me to sign anything. And I definitely won’t sign your butts, guys. You’re gross.”  
Shikama leaned over to Choku, muttering in a tone of confidence in his right ear.  
“We’re doomed, pal. She can read our thoughts.”  
“Actually, I’m just thinking about food. You’re the perverted one, Shikama.”  
“Come on,” he insisted. “I don’t want to be the only o-”  
Inojika’s annoyed fist landed on both their faces. Then, she put her hands on her stunning hips, patronizing them.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, jackasses.”

  
.

  
.

  
.

  
“...And that’s how we became besties!” Inoichi beamed proudly.  
“Oh my god dad, you’re such a bad storyteller.”  
“...It’s fake, Inoichi-san. I mean, you’re trying to tell Ino to be less girly and more deadly, it’s obvious. And troublesome. Beside, my father told me those three ended up in the same bar at the same time and got drunk togeth-”  
Ino punched him. Hard.  
“You moron! Your father is a liar, mine’s not!”  
“Children-”  
“Shikamaru, Ino, it’s fine, alright? It was still a nice story.”  
“It’s not a stor-”  
“You’re right, Choji. Anyway, thanks dad! That was fun!”  
“But it’s the goddamn truth, you ungrateful-”  
Chouka and Shikaku both smiled, patting softly their common friend. It’s alright, pal, they said. They will understand soon enough. Let them be.


End file.
